


John Winchester, Man of Letters

by robinasnyder



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M, M/M, Men of Letters, Multi, Samael - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-08-24
Packaged: 2017-12-08 08:40:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/759371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robinasnyder/pseuds/robinasnyder
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucifer is able to crawl of the cage by leaving most of his grace locked up in the cage. He gains the trust of John Winchester, a young Man of Letters in training, to try and keep tabs on the progress of the apocalypse.  Lucifer's scheme goes awry when John decides not to stick to the plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [John Winchester AU Men of Letters](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/20091) by mypapawinchester. 



John met his first angel at the age of 16. John had been in and out of the Men of Letters headquarters since he was 13. He hadn’t being trained yet, but some event had which happened when his father was inducted caused the Men of Letters to keep the legacies closer than before. The end result was that John spent almost every afternoon at the Men of Letters headquarters. John didn’t mind. He liked spending his afternoons wrapped up in the more public libraries. 

But occasionally the library wasn’t enough. John liked slipping into the back rooms. He’d either never been caught, or the Men of Letters approved of his sneaky habits. He’d only ever been nearly caught, and that happened the one time he got into an area too deep into the headquarters. That didn’t mean he wasn’t going to try again. 

There was a summoning area that John wanted to see. He tried to keep an eye out for anyone who might notice him. He wanted time. Mostly he just strode back like he owned the place. Generally sneaking was a good way to draw attention and get caught. Blatancy, simply acting like he belonged was more likely to get him forgotten, especially now that he was getting older. 

John just strode back, glancing around as furtively as he could to be certain that he wasn’t being looked at. He’d snatched a key which he slipped into the lock and entered like he believed the key would work. Doors always had to be shut behind the Men of Letters in case over curious little boys like John got through them.

John smirked. 

Really, the summoning room looked like any other room in the place, except that there was already someone in there. Now John frowned for real. He knew no one else was supposed to be there, especially not a kid. The kid couldn’t have been more than 15, but probably liked 14 or something. The kid turned his head and John was sucker punched by the look in the kid's pale blue eyes. But it wasn’t the eyes themselves that made him catch his breath; it was how ancient they were. 

“Were you summoned here?” John asked. 

“Yes,” the boy said. “And you?” 

“Snuck in,” John said a bit proudly. He’d done a good days work. Even if he got caught getting out it would be fine. The boy’s lips twitched up a bit like it amused him. “So, are you…” John trailed off because he didn’t know how to ask. 

“An angel?” the boy asked. “Yes.” John sucked in a breath. So much for acting nonchalant. That explained the ancient eyes. 

“I didn’t... I didn’t know that angels possessed boys.” 

The boy looked down at his body. “I wouldn’t call it possession. He had to say yes first. And there are only a few people who can be my vessel, same for any angel.” 

“What’s his name?” 

“Who?” the boy asked, looking up at John again. 

“The kid you’re wearing,” John said, sort of gesturing to the body. 

“Nicholas Campbell,” the angel said. 

“Campbell, the hunting family?” John asked. 

“Vaguely related, third cousin,” the angel said, looking at his hands. “He doesn’t know about hunting, in any case.” 

“So… who are you then?” John asked. 

The angel looked at him, holding his gaze for a long moment. John wondered if the angel was going to tell him or not. Finally the angel let out what could only be a sigh. 

“My name is Samael.” 

John frowned. Why did the angel sound so sad about that? “So, Samael, you were summoned here for what reason?” 

“Is there was reason I should tell you, a self proclaimed sneak, official Men of Letters business?” the angel asked. He was smirking though. 

“Are you stuck here?” John asked. 

“Vaguely,” Samael said. 

“Well then, Samael, what do you say we bust of here and get a soda?” John said with a wide grin. 

Samael blinked at him, confused and uncertain, at least John thought that was what the blank look meant. “I’ve never had a… soda?” There really shouldn’t have been a question mark at the end of the sentence, but Samael clearly wasn’t even certain about the word. 

“We have to go now!” John said. He walked over and grabbed Samael’s hand. Samael looked confused before closing his hand into a tight grip on John’s. John felt like telling Samael that men didn’t hold hands like that, but Samael seemed a bit in awe at the contact, so John didn’t tell him otherwise. 

“Just follow my lead, act normal,” John said. He didn’t realize until he’d already led the angel outside of the room that he probably didn’t even know how to act human, let alone normal. He didn’t seem to even blink or breath in a normal human rhythm, like he only did it when he remembered. It was very obvious to John when he was so close to Samael. 

John tightened his grip on Samael’s hand, suddenly realizing that there was no way they were going to get out of there without being seen. John had given himself about a 70% chance that he’d make it out of there without being noticed on his own. Holding a kid’s hand, a stranger, who’d come from the summoning room the chance dropped to 5%. 

“John!” a sudden sharp voice said. “John Winchester.” 

“Run,” John shouted at Samael. He took off running and, with an all mighty tug, dragged Samael along with him. Samael sort of stumbled, but quickly caught his foot and ran easily behind John, allowing John to lead because John knew where he was headed and Samael didn’t. 

John could hear shouts behind them and the sound of pounding feet. He didn’t care. He ducked and weaved. A lot of the Men of Letters were older and while they knew spells they hardly would be able to register what he was doing except running until he was passed them. He’d already made it out of the restricted section.

“John, stop!” their doorman said. Suddenly the man froze and John jumped over him, being carried by the power of Samael’s grace. The door slammed open and John ran full tilt out as the door slammed behind them. John didn’t stop running, though. It was another duck and weave and he needed space between them and the Men of Letters.

When John did stop he has guided Samael through a dirty maze of streets. They stopped in a disgusting alley that the local bums liked to frequent, the guys John asked for war stories from in exchange for stories about monsters. He felt a little bad about taking Samael to this place, as it was not the first impression he wanted to give an angel about humanity. But the Men of Letters wouldn’t look for them there. They were too refined to know it existed and they would lose all the color in their faces if they saw John is a place that had so many black men. 

John panted heavily, trying to catch his breath. His body was also trying to laugh which made it very hard for him to gulp air like he needed to. John glanced at Samael who looked very blank. Samael reached out his hand. John knew what it was for, and he tried to wave it off, but the angel had already touched him and healed his windedness. 

“You didn’t need to,” John said, still bent part way over and still smiling. 

“It seemed easier than watching you suffocate yourself.” 

John straightened up. “You’re just a load of laughs, aren’t you?” 

“I would not think so,” Samael said. He glanced back the way they’d come and John was absolutely certain that Samael knew exactly the way they’d come from. “Are you going to get into trouble?” 

“Yeah, but I can’t care,” John said. He straightened his clothes and grinned at Samael. They’d let go of their clasped hands, which saved John the awkwardness of pulling away. “So? Soda?” 

“I suppose,” Samael said. 

John started walking away, assuming Samael would follow. He didn’t need look back to check. He could feel Samael’s improper not-breathing on his neck from how close Samael stood. John had to smile a little and walked a bit faster. He out right grinned when Samael picked up pace to keep the exact distance. 

“You know, humans don’t normally walk that close together,” John said. 

“Oh,” Samael said. John turned, seeing Samael at a more appropriate distance. He was staring at John, but John ignored it until they got to the diner. 

“Two standard fare,” John said to the waitress before heading to his usual table. Gladys would roll her eyes like always, but she would also put in his order without coming by with menus or wasting time actually trying to wait on him. 

“John?” Samael asked once they were seated. John noticed how Samael’s eyes skittered around the room, taking in the décor. 

“Yeah?” John asked. 

“Are you really John Winchester?” Samael asked. John looked very confused. It would make sense if Samael heard about Henry Winchester, but not his son John who hadn’t even been inducted yet. 

“Yeah, why?” John asked. And suddenly his brain actually started to work. John leaned forward and dropped his voice to a whisper. Samael leaned in, though he probably could hear it without having to do so. “So, do I have some kind of grand fate? Is that why you know me?” 

“I don’t know of your fate,” Samael said in the same hushed tone. John glanced around, seeing that Samael had done the same. He wondered if Samael spoke softer for secrecy or because he thought that was what he was supposed to do, like John did. 

“Then how do you know me?” 

“Your line are vessels,” Samael said. 

John felt more than a little star struck. He wasn’t certain how he felt about it, but John knew that vessels were necessary for angels, and one of the Men of Letters had told John a theory of vessels being descendants of nephilim. John could suddenly barely contain his excitement. 

“Are all Men of Letters vessels?” John asked. 

“Some are,” Samael said. “But not many. Yours is, though. Every angel knows every possible vessel as we know every prophet.” 

John sat back, dumbstruck as Gladys brought their food over, just sandwiches and Coke. On automatic John poured a large amount of ketchup on his sandwich and started to eat it. John was vaguely paying attention when Samael did the same. He only actually exited his pensive mood when he heard coughing from the other side of the table. Angels didn’t need to breath, so it hardly mattered if they swallowed wrong. 

But John realized it wasn’t food in the wrong tube that made Samael cough. It was the over abundance of ketchup that even John would call excessive. He’d probably put too much on his own, but Samael clearly misjudged. John had been eating but not really paying attention. He got his usual fare and even a bit too much ketchup hardly mattered to him. 

John couldn’t help himself, he started to laugh. And oh, the look Samael gave him just made it worse. Samael had a terrifying glare. But it was hard to terrified of a 14 year old with ketchup on his chin. John grabbed a napkin and leaned over, cleaning up Samael. John sort of wanted to take care of the kid. 

“You don’t need that much,” John said. He pushed his sandwich over to Samael. He grabbed Samael's and a fork and began to try and salvage what he could. He scraped off most of the excess condiment, but it was still in excess. 

John glanced over to see Samael using his fork to do the same. John nearly scowled. He couldn’t even try it in a normal manner, could he? 

Samael took a bite and he seemed to really consider the taste as he chewed. John just watched him think. A few times John thought Samael genuinely hated the sandwich, but he kept eating. John finished off his meal before the glacial pace of Samael, but he didn’t mention it. This was the first time Samael was trying this stuff and John didn’t want to ruin that. 

“Well?” John asked once Samael finished. 

“Well,” Samael said. “It was… odd. I’m not certain how I think of it. My vessel reacted to it. But it also seems petty and unnecessary, especially from me.” 

“Unnecessary as it might be in heaven, here it’s necessary. People have to eat. The y also have to breath and blink like a normal person.” If Samael had been human he would have flushed bright red. As it was, they wouldn’t be in this situation if Saemal was human. 

“And what, then do you propose I do?” 

“Learn to act human, especially if you plan to stay here for longer than a week.” 

“I plan to be here for a very long time.” John realized how straightforward Samael’s tone was. He wondered if angels were all like that. 

“Then it looks like it’s up to me to teach you.” John grinned at his brilliant idea. 

Samael blinked skeptically. “Wouldn’t one of the Men of Letters be more suited to the task?” 

John snorted. “They might tell you they are, but they have no clue how to act like people, even my dad.” 

“I see,” Samael said. “So, when do these lessons begin?” 

“They did the first time I saw you,” John said with an over dramatic wink. Samael didn’t so much as blink. John had to tie down his disappointment. This would not be a guy who’d easily go along with his games… but that just meant that it would really be worth it when John could get finally get Samael to respond.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucifer was surprised how easily he fit into John Winchester’s life. John was a very easy going teenager, though his temper could be wicked when his fuse got lit. John didn’t take after his father much, except where it counted. Henry was kind and formal and mistrustful of “Samael”. But he was also where John got his streak of black humor, and where John got his loyalty and easy smiles. He also accepted that “Samael” would not only not harm John, but would protect him. 

John, much to the shame of his father, was a very physical teenager. It was one thing to fight against a bully (which Henry accepted but did not like). It was a second thing to fight against bullies for someone else (which Henry chided John for, but they both knew he was proud of him for it). It was a whole other thing for John to just launch himself at people because they said something he didn’t like. 

Their biggest arguments came surrounding one time when old Mickey Longstreet called John’s mother a whore. Lucifer, who had been quietly goading John’s anger along for his own purposes, was stunned by the ferocity of John’s attack. Lucifer truly believed that if he hadn’t bodily dragged John off, that John would have murdered Mickey Longstreet while they all watched. Lucifer got a bloody nose for the privilege. 

Lucifer held ice to his nose, sitting next to John who had ice on his eye. Lucifer could see that besides the shiner that John had a cracked rib. That was the biggest hit Mickey Longstreet had gotten, and only out of desperation. 

“How long have you been training with Samuel Campbell?” Lucifer asked softly. 

John’s gaze shifted to Lucifer. “Bout a year, before I met you, anyway.”

“Won’t tell,” Lucifer said. His face hurt. He didn’t like not being able to heal instantly. John should have shattered his elbow throwing his arm back like that, not broken Lucifer’s nose. Crippling his grace had gotten Lucifer out of the cage, but it also made him weaker than the lowest angel. Waiting on earth was at least less painful than in the cage, but the unpredictable nature of his weakness made Lucifer grit his teeth. 

“Thanks, Sam,” John murmured. 

Both of them looked up when Henry Winchester walked out of the office. Lucifer had never seen Henry look so angry. He winced in sympathy for John until Lucifer saw Henry’s eyes slide over to him. They fixed on Lucifer’s nose, and Lucifer saw pure suspicion. Lucifer, as an angel, should have been able to heal already, but he’s had to wrap his grace around John and Mickey Longstreet to keep John from killing the idiot. Lucifer didn’t have the strength to fix himself. It would be a few hours before he could be healed. 

“We’re going home,” Henry said. He turned and walked out. John stood, looking anxious. He followed after his father, looking small.

John was just 16 (nearly 17) but he rapidly catching up to his father. Lucifer thought John would surpass Henry soon. But John was bigger, more muscular. He was stronger than his father and would just get stronger if he kept training with hunters, and Henry would only get weaker as he aged and continued to live bent over books. But Henry’s quiet anger made John seem to shrink.

Lucifer followed. He didn’t have the power to do much else, and he spent more time in John’s room laying on John’s bed than he spent at the Men of Letters HQ. He sat in the back for Henry’s 17 year old Chevrolet. John sat in the front next to Henry, but Lucifer rather thought John would rather be in the back. Henry did not even look at John on the ride home. Lucifer didn’t even see Henry glance at John in the mirror. But Henry did look at Lucifer. 

Henry was a smart man. He had been watching Lucifer for their few months. Lucifer didn’t know if Henry had found the name ‘Samael’ in any texts yet. Lucifer did know that if Henry found the name ‘Samael’ attached to an archangel then Lucifer was going to have a hard time explaining his weakness. They did work with angels occasionally, rarely. And ‘Samael’ had stayed when the rest left as soon as they could.

Not like Lucifer had anywhere to go. It certainly didn’t have anything to do with John saying his name with familiarity and happiness in a way Lucifer hadn’t heard in thousands of years. ‘Samael’ didn’t feel like his name anymore even. But ‘Sam’ was a name Lucifer was starting to feel some connection to. 

The drive wasn’t long, but the tense silence made it seem long. Lucifer’s aching nose did not help matters. He was happy when they arrived home. He slipped away toward John’s room, or seemed like it. He could be invisible even if he couldn’t heal. It was a very basic skill. 

Henry walked into the sitting room and John followed. John kept glancing at his father and then away. Henry took time to hang up his coat and hat and sit down and take off his shoes. John stood at the center of the room and waited. Lucifer brushed past, ghosting fingers over one of John’s shoulders. Support. Lucifer wanted John to depend on him and trust him. They’d done this before. Lucifer had seen John’s chastisements since he’d arrived and John generally accepted it. Henry didn’t like to criticize John in front of other people, and for John having ‘Samael’ there felt like a rebellion. 

“I don’t even know where to begin, John,” Henry finally said. John made eye contact and kept it for a minute. Henry didn’t yell. John yelled, Henry didn’t. But he’d drop his voice and octave and looked so disappointed. Sometimes Lucifer was reminded of his own father and it made him uncomfortable and angry. 

“Sir?” John asked. Knowing John he just wanted this part over. 

“Don’t speak to me,” Henry said coolly. “I’m paying for Michael Longstreet’s hospital bills. You do know that he had to go to the hospital?” 

“Yes,” John said. He looked down and set his jaw. Lucifer rested his hand on the middle of John’s shoulders. He jumped just a small faction. Lucifer could see John’s eyes flick toward where Lucifer stood for a minute, not that John could actually see.

“They wanted to expel you, John,” Henry said calmly. “He’s seriously injured.” 

“He’ll live.” 

“That doesn’t matter,” Henry said, leaning forward. Even sitting, Henry towered over John when he spoke like this. “There is no excuse for how you behaved.” 

John’s head shot up, fire in his eyes. “He called mom-” 

“I know what he said,” Henry cut off crisply. “And I don’t care, John. Where did you even learn to hurt someone like that? That is not appropriate for a legacy. That’s not appropriate for a man.” 

“It’s not inappropriate for hunters,” John snapped. 

Henry’s controlled anger dropped into something glacial. The glare he gaze John made him shiver. Lucifer could feel the quivers on the hand that he still had placed on John’s back. Lucifer found it interesting. 

“Hunters do not beat up children because they are trying to provoke them. You behaved worse than a hunter, John. Worse than a child. Worse than an animal. You have a brain and you are supposed to use it. It’s a sin against God to not use what he gave you.” 

“Like you know what God wants!” John snapped. His head whipped up and he glared at his father. John was a lot of bottled hot anger. A lot of it was around his missing mother. “Just because you talk to angels? Does that make me a bigger authority, because Samael stays with me?” 

“John,” Henry said. “Stop.” 

“No, I won’t!” John shouted. “You’re angry that I impinged on some false honor!” John changed his tone to imitate one of the masters of the Men of Letters who spoke so low of hunters. Henry jerked his head back like he’d been slapped. Hunters were supposedly the one with false honor. It was a huge insult to call a Man of Letters a hunter. John had just done that.

“You will not speak to me like this,” Henry said. His voice was softer but deeper. “You harmed that boy, and you did it because you could not control your temper. You cannot behave like this as a legacy.” 

“And what if I don’t want to be a legacy?” John spit out. A heavy silence followed. Lucifer knew for a fact that John wanted very much to be a Man of Letters. He never shut up about it and he studied constantly. But John was also stubborn and angry and he’d found the perfect leverage to cause pain. 

“You don’t mean that,” Henry said quietly. 

“I do!” John snapped. He glared daggers at his father, but Lucifer could practically taste his fear. Small tremors still wracked John’s body, though Henry wouldn’t be able to tell, only Lucifer. “The Men of Letters are lazy, arrogant and useless compared to hunters! You know what you do? You stare at old things while they’re out there saving people? I won’t be useless like they are. And I won’t be the type of non-man who allows his wife to run out with another man!” John turned to storm out. 

“Don’t you dare move!” Henry snapped. John jumped. Lucifer did a little too. He’d never heard Henry Winchester raise his voice. Henry was shaking with barely contained rage. His face was terrible shade of red. This, Lucifer thought, this was Michael in the Winchester veins. “I have raised you since you were a boy. You will respect me, and you will respect the order our family has upheld for generations. You believe that you are so superior because someone taught you how to punch? Where would the hunters be if we did not help them? Anyone can fight, you see it from the number of soldiers. But how many men are there who can do what we can do? Only us! You are ungrateful!” 

Henry voice carried weight and angry burning deep. But his voice wasn’t raised after that first moment. His gaze ran up and down John like he was looking at something disgusting. Lucifer wanted to smite him. He remembered something right before he’d been locked up, a similar look. Lucifer wanted to take it out on Henry Winchester’s face. 

“You will go to your room and stay there until I come to get you tomorrow. And we will begin work again on the basic principles of our order. You don’t have school for the rest of the week. And so we will work on them every day until I believe you know them, even if takes a hundred years I will teach you this. Until this you will not step foot into the rooms of the Men of Letters-” 

“But-”

“You don’t deserve it,” Henry said with venom in his voice. John flinched. His shoulders dropped. Lucifer’s hand found Johns, squeezing. John had taken his hand and led him through those halls with laughter and joy only a few months before. John loved the order. “And you will go nowhere but school and home without my direct supervision. Is this understood?” 

“Yes, sir,” John said quietly. He was defeated. 

“Samael, I know you’re here. You will stay here with me and return to the order this evening.” Lucifer glared, but allowed himself to be seen. He noticed the way Henry’s gaze went to his and John’s clasped hands. “John, you should go upstairs now.” 

“Dad, no!” John protested, glancing at Lucifer and tightening his grip until it actually hurt. 

“NOW!” Henry roared. Lucifer really jumped. John dropped his hand. He didn’t run to his room, but he walked away quickly. There was not time for dejection. He did as he was ordered. Samael glared at Henry. 

Henry waited until they both heard John’s door shut. Then he sank into the chair and buried his head in his hands. This surprised Lucifer. All of Henry’s anger was gone. He was sad. 

“I hate being angry at him,” Henry said. 

“Then why do you do it?” Lucifer asked. 

Henry chuckled bitterly and looked up over his hands enough to catch Lucifer’s eyes. “Because he could have killed that boy, Samael. If would have if you hadn’t been there. Don’t think I don’t know why your nose is still broken.” 

Lucifer’s hand made an aborted motion where he tried to touch the wound, but stopped himself. “It’s nothing,” he said. 

“Whatever brought you here weakened you. You saved him today,” Henry said. He sat back in the chair, slumping down. He looked exhausted. “Please, sit. I feel uncomfortable when you stand when I’m not.” 

Lucifer considered standing, but that seemed to much like a petulant child’s response and he took one of the nearby arm chairs. “You hurt him. He does not mean what he says about the order.” 

“I know, I know,” Henry said. “I know,” he said again, staring up at the ceiling. “But if he believes it’s even a bit acceptable to speak of what we do, who we are like that then he isn’t worthy. Not yet… Samael he has so much potential. But if he gets cocky he’s going to kill someone.” 

“I won’t let him,” Lucifer said. He didn’t know where the words came from, but he meant them. If John Winchester killed someone and went to prison then it would ruin all of his plans. 

“Thank you,” Henry said. “I know that I have not been so trusting up until now. You are not like any angel I have ever met or heard of. None of them care for humanity at all, but John loves you and I don’t think for a second that you would not protect him. I may not trust you for everything. But I do trust you with him.” 

Lucifer nodded. He felt… pleased. Despite himself, Henry Winchester’s acceptance meant something to him. He blamed it on his sore face and his drained grace. He was too close to human at that moment. He aggressively wished for his grace to return to him. He forced the thought away. He still had over thirty years to wait. He needed to be patient. 

“I will take care of him,” Lucifer promised. 

“Thank you,” Henry said again. “But I need to ask you for a bigger favor. Don’t just protect him. I know you can’t always watch him and neither can I. He has to, has to learn on his own. He needs to be the man he should be.” 

“I’ve never heard you raise your voice before,” Lucifer said, leaning back in his chair. 

“He wounded me,” Henry said. “He is very good at finding where it hurts and how to strike it best. I’m not even certain I would not have attacked Michael Longstreet if I’d heard him say it. I did sock his father when he said it.” 

Lucifer’s lips twitched in a smirk. Henry and John Winchester were not very alike, except in every way that mattered.


	3. Chapter 3

Sam was the school’s anomaly. He didn’t go there. Everyone knew he didn’t go there. But he still showed up every day just about. He even went to classes. He’d even contribute to classes. Sometimes he’d argue with teachers. Okay, if he ever opened his mouth in class he was arguing with teachers. He argued with science teachers about how cells work. He argued with the math teachers if he saw even the slightest problem with their equations. He argued with the French teacher constantly, in French. In fluent French and then he’d switch to Spanish (which was equally as fluent) just to annoy the man. He argued with the art teach on why the human form was ugly. He argued with the English teachers on absolutely every point they made, and did his best to make certain everyone left feeling like humanity was pathetic. He argued with the history teachers, especially world history.

Mr. Jenkins who taught world history loved Sam. The kid rattled off story after story about ancient history from places that had nothing to do with Europe and were more likely to be in Africa or South America or India. He told the history Mr. Jenkins taught differently too. He broke down population numbers by race in Europe. Mr. Jenkins, being a man who wanted to teach in a university, found it invigorating. Ms. Kene who taught US History did not like Sam at all. 

Sam liked to talk about the Trail of Tears and the small pox virus the settlers gave to the Indians. Sam talked about US history like it all came together by a miracle and like everyone was sort of awful, which sort of made it all better than what Ms. Kene wanted them to know. Because who knew normal people could found a country? Or how the thoughts from hundreds of years ago weren’t that different from what people argued over now? Of course none of it would help any of them pass Ms. Kene’s tests. 

It wasn’t unknown that Sam seemed to like to make the teachers angry by outsmarting them. Ms. Saunders who taught the Senior English course was probably the only one who could really infuriate Sam. Sam would tear apart a book in the most anti-human way possible. Just when everyone else thought that people couldn’t possibly be worse Ms. Saunders would very quietly, calmly, and politely, shred Sam’s arguments. They would go back and forth until the bell either rang or Sam went quiet and glared sulkily from the back of the class. 

He’d been there since the Seniors were Sophomores. He was sort of like a weird school mascot. He was only just old enough to be a Sophomore himself. He’d spent the first few months following John Winchester around, but after that he just went to whatever class suited him. 

His relationship with John Winchester was another odd thing. John was a big guy and strong and he was capable of serious injuring someone. And Sam was smaller but he just seemed bigger sometimes. He could calm John down when no one else could. He’d sit with John at lunch even when he didn’t eat (which was often). Someone at some point thought maybe John was ordering the kid around, but no. Sam just seemed to like John and only John. 

Someone heard them arguing near graduation. They sat on the bleacher in the gym. Sam sat with his knee pressed into John’s. Sam didn’t seem to understand personal space, and everyone knew John knew to keep his proper distance from people. John looked Sam in the eyes. Sam stared back. He didn’t even seem to blink much. 

“You didn’t get drafted,” Sam said. His face was blank, which was never a good sign. And John wasn’t smiling, which meant it was very, very bad. 

“I’m going anyway.” 

“Why? Why? You’re names at the end, what does it matter?” 

John glared at Sam. Sam’s expression didn’t change. “Because they need men. And what use am I here?” 

“You’re a legacy,” Sam hissed. Whatever that meant. 

“One that hasn’t been allowed in for two years. Face it, Sam, I’m not welcome back. And I need to go where I’m needed.” 

“Dammit John! You’re going to go die because you’re sulking at your father.” 

“I’m not going to go die,” John hissed. Now he was getting mad. 

“Yes you are, yes you are,” Sam snapped. He glanced around, glaring at anyone who was staring and then leaned in, lowering his voice. They could still hear it, though. “This is a war so no reason, and you’re just going to be cannon fodder.” 

“I’m serving my country. How can I stay here when my friends and brothers are going?” 

“Because we need you here, John,” Sam said, grabbing John’s hand. John jerked away. The look on Sam’s face hurt them. Because Sam looked like John had just punched him. Sam was always uncomfortably cool, but John never pulled away from his touch. He was the only one too. 

“Stop trying to guilt me into this. I never should have told you. I knew you wouldn’t be supportive.” 

“You’re being a spoiled little boy. You know why your dad won’t let you back in? It’s because of this. You believe you’re entitled to everything because of who you are. And you are not, John Winchester. You’re not. You are nothing.” Sam was even better at John Winchester than finding the right words to hurt. And his tone and the horrible flash of hate on his face told them his words meant more than what was just said and they weren’t even completely directed at John. 

But John didn’t see that. And they didn’t see it for much longer because he punched Sam. Sam reeled back, grabbing his nose. The sickening crunch told them it was broken. Sam breathed through his mouth. He looked shocked. John didn’t say anything. He just turned away. 

“You’re a coward, Winchester!” Sam shouted, blood dribbling down his face. “Never come near me again!” 

They had never seen them fight before, but it was all over the school by the end of the day. Sam still went to classes, but he didn’t say a word. And when anyone asked what happened to his nose he said he ran into a wall and he did not walk with John at the end of the day.


	4. Chapter 4

Lucifer didn’t speak to John for over a month. He still went to John’s school, after a week he returned to sitting with John at lunch, but he never spoke to him. Everyone around them noticed. Lucifer had an easy time holding a grudge, and John showed no interest in apologizing to him or speaking to him. Lucifer wanted very much for it to be thirty years in the future. Then his grace would be out and he could exact his vengeance on John Winchester without having to even touch him. 

A week before graduation John was allowed to return to the Men of Letters HQ. Lucifer went with John, but they didn’t talk. John went to the library, picked out a book and read. Lucifer sat nearby and watched John. He remembered a few years before, when they first met. There was sheer joy in John’s eyes at his sneaking around, and how clever he was to be able to make it. Lucifer knew that John wouldn’t try that now. Lucifer knew that John wouldn’t risk his chance to be there, not when his days were numbered. 

That was how Lucifer saw it, anyway. He got called a ‘God Damn Hippie’ pretty often now. He just didn’t give a shit. War was just a way for kings to play bloody board games. This one, especially, was ludicrous. People around him cited their last big war like that made this one good, but Lucifer didn’t see the connection at all. Hearing about World War II and the Holocaust set Lucifer’s teeth on edge. This was what his father wanted Lucifer to worship like he worshiped God? No, never. 

Lucifer watched John Winchester read and wondered if John regretted his decision. Lucifer saw John as the kid putting the bullet in his brain to get the last word in an argument with his parents. It made Lucifer angry. 

Lucifer had only just started talking to John again. It was mostly ‘pass the bread’ or ‘excuse me’. But it was more than there had been in a long time. He wouldn’t be able to protect him in Vietnam. Lucifer couldn’t go. Besides the fact that he was stuck in the body of a sixteen year old, he probably would get himself killed trying to protect John Winchester. John would try to save him if he screwed up, though.

That thought made a melancholy smile creep onto Lucifer’s mouth whenever it came to his mind. Lucifer barely spoke to John during the last months of school. Lucifer always thought John was an idiot and insulted him for his choices. But John would stand in front of a bullet, hundreds of them even, if it would protect ‘Samael’. 

John’s graduation was in the day time. Henry was so damn proud. Lucifer went and he did not say there was no point to be proud. John easily passed. He could have done better. Being proud of John for graduating was like being proud of a baby for learning to crawl. Lucifer didn’t understand why everyone cared so much. 

John went to a party that evening and Lucifer went with him. It was a goodbye for him too. They all knew ‘Samael’ wasn’t going to school the next year. Even if ‘Sam’ was only 16, they knew he wasn’t one of them. They didn’t know what he was, but he’d assimilated into their lives. Maybe one day they would look back and realize how strange he really was and they’d suddenly really think and really worry. But he knew it would probably be thirty years or more passed by then, at which point it would hardly matter. 

Lucifer sat back, drank with the others, watched them get strung out. A bunch of them were shipping off in the morning and they wanted their last hurrah before morning came. Something heavy settled in Lucifer’s stomach. Why hadn’t he thought of it? All of John’s friends were leaving in the morning. 

“Come with me,” Lucifer said, grabbing John’s arm and dragging him up to Suzy Tyre’s elder sister’s bed room. It had band posters everywhere and scarves over the lamps gave the room a red glow that Lucifer knew was supposed to encourage lust for any couple that needed a quiet place to make out. But it looked silly with the pink lacy bed spread and the stuffed animals the Tyre’s kept on their college age daughter’s bed. He locked the door, setting a bit of grace so anyone who got near the door would suddenly think of something else they needed to be doing. 

“I think that’s the most words you’ve said to me at one time in months,” John said. He was dressed casually, though he’d clearly come to the party looking for a last hurrah as well. Lucifer wondered how he could possibly have been so stupid to not notice. 

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” Lucifer said, wanting to sound accusing. Instead he sounded desperate. 

John looked sad. “Look, sit with me Samael, please?” he asked. He grabbed Lucifer’s arm and tugged him down on the bed. They sat near each other and just stared. 

“You didn’t tell me,” Lucifer said. 

“You got mad when I told you I was going at all. I was worried you’d tell dad.” 

“You’re not even going to tell him you’re leaving?” Lucifer demanded. 

“I’m written a letter… I was hoping you could give it to him?” 

Lucifer’s mouth felt too dry. “You’re a real coward, Winchester.” 

“Yeah, I am,” John said. “Will you give it to him?” 

Lucifer wanted to punch him for agreeing. This was his big brother- this was Michael’s vessel. He wasn’t supposed to be a coward. He wasn’t supposed to be like this.

“Fine,” Lucifer spat. He wanted to stand up and storm out. But in the morning John was going to leave and Lucifer would never see him again. 

“Will you come with us in the morning?” John asked. The tone of his voice changed. He wanted something from Lucifer, but Lucifer didn’t know what.

“Tim needs someone to drive his baby back home, I take it,” Lucifer said. 

“He does, but that’s not why I’m asking.” John was staring at him. That was what John called it when Lucifer looked at him like that anyway. Lucifer looked away. 

“Then why are you?” 

“Because I’m terrified, Samael.” Though John’s voice cracked it was the only indication that John was anything but calm. “I’m terrified and I need a good memory before I leave.” 

“Find a girl, that’s what they’re for,” Lucifer spat. It was obvious that was what he’d come for. Still he shifted closer to John. 

“Will you promise me not to come for me? Even if I’m dying? Even if my dad begs?” 

Lucifer looked up. He wanted to feel shocked that John thought he would try to save him. But John knew ‘Samael’ would protect him no matter what, the same way Lucifer knew John would die for him. Lucifer hadn’t realized until that moment how much he depended on John. John liked him, genuinely. John knew he was an angel, but treated him like more like a man. It should have pissed Lucifer off and some days it did. But at that moment, in Suzy Tyre’s big sister’s room, Lucifer was thankful for it. 

“Please, don’t go,” Lucifer heard himself ask. 

John’s arm slung around him. “I have to, Samael. It’s my duty. They need soldiers.” 

“They don’t need you!” Lucifer snapped, pulling away. “You’re just one man, they’d got plenty. They don’t need you.” 

John gave Lucifer a look that Lucifer associated with both his father and with Michael. Lucifer hated it, since neither of them looked like John Winchester at all, and there was nothing divine about John. But it was the same look. John looked sad and distant, and a bit fed up like ‘why don’t you get this?’. 

“I need you,” Lucifer said. It was true. In order to get his grace out, he needed John’s bloodline. But that wasn’t what he meant when he said those words. 

“Need you too,” John mumbled. His hand rested on Lucifer’s cheek. Nick was starting to grow scruff, which John teased him for it just being ‘peach fuzz’. But John’s thumb, rough from the training he’d been taking from Samuel Campbell, traced circles in the coarse hairs. 

Lucifer didn’t know what to say. John didn’t seem to have anything to say either. Lucifer just met John’s gaze, looking intently like he knew not to do. John told him not to stare. But it was what he did with John. Maybe that was why he wasn’t surprised when John’s lips pressed into his. 

John was quite the lady’s man, which Lucifer always rolled his eyes at. John would end up with Mary Campbell one way or another. Lucifer found human courting to be disgusting. A part of his mind said something about exchanging bacteria and bodily fluids. But Lucifer found nothing disgusting about the press of their chapped lips. There wasn’t passion. There was no spark like in books. It wasn’t intoxicating. But Lucifer felt something warm sprout in his belly, and he chased after John’s lips for a moment before he realized how like begging it was and stopped. 

John looked troubled when he pulled back, but his hand was still one Lucifer’s face. He was looking at him intently, but he also kept quickly glancing at Lucifer’s lips and then looking away. John’s face grew redder every time he did that. When he caught Lucifer’s eyes and realized he’d noticed John’s gaze, John would get redder. 

“Is this a sin?” John asked, his voice barely there at all.

“No,” Lucifer whispered back. It felt like some great secret. 

“Then it’s okay,” John said. Much of the tension dropped from his shoulders. Whatever latent homophobia had been drilled into John’s skull slipped away with a small reassurance from an angel. John trusted Lucifer, ‘Samael’ anyway, more than he trusted any adult in his life. 

John’s hands dropped, grabbing Lucifer’s hips. John pulled himself closer that way, knowing ‘Samael’ wouldn’t be moved if he didn’t want to be. John pressed his lips to ‘Samael’s again, but Lucifer saw it coming that time and met him half way. 

It was just as chaste as the previous one. John had never kissed a male shaped being before, Lucifer knew this. Lucifer had never kissed anyone at all. His veins didn’t ‘sing with lust’. His world didn’t ‘turn upside down’. Nothing changed. They’d been moving toward that moment for a while. It just clicked. Their lips felt right when they touched.

Lucifer pulled back this time. He looked at John and felt sad. It was overwhelming sadness. “You’re running off in the morning to die,” he said quietly. 

“I know,” John said. His thumbs started to make circles on Lucifer’s hip bones.

“Why? If you know, then why?” 

John looked into his eyes and Lucifer just wanted to kiss him again. John was already a soldier. Lucifer knew the gaze because it was his own. He could even see it in his pathetic human vessel. He saw it in the mirror. John, if he made it back, would be incredible, a god amongst men. 

“Because it’s my duty. Duty is what I owe to my friends who also go in the morning. Duty is what I owe to my school that made certain I knew how to think. Duty is what I owe to the Order, so I’ll be come home knowing how to deal with hunters and soldiers. Duty is what I owe to the men in my unit who will live if I can use what the Order has taught me. Duty is what I owe my country.” 

“Honor gets men killed for nothing,” Lucifer said. 

“Not honor, Samael, duty.” 

Lucifer looked at John through his eyelashes. “What duty do you owe me then?” 

“To come home, to help you with whatever it is you’ve been looking for all these years.” 

Lucifer wasn’t surprised. They spent the past few years wrapped up in each other’s lives. Of course John would see his frustration and agitation. John would know he was waiting for something. John would try to help. Lucifer never lied, not outright. But he felt bad for his lack of truth. He had to push that down. John wouldn’t be alive for much longer, what did it matter? 

Lucifer leaned, initiating the kiss for the first time. It felt awkward to Lucifer. A part of him wondered why people made such a fuss about kissing. John moved closer as Lucifer tried to open his mouth for air and their teeth clacked together. John laughed and so did Lucifer. And then their lips met again. And they had to pull away to laugh because this time they met too fast and their teeth knocked between their lips and it hurt. 

The feeling of sensitive skin on sensitive skin was odd for Lucifer. The nerves lit up, trying to encourage more. Kissing was made to encourage small doses of illness the body could handle: nature’s vaccinations. But while he knew what kissing was meant to be scientifically, and what it always meant in books, it was just different in real life. 

The laughter surprised him. He’d been so sullen for month and their terrible performance had them both giggling. John’s hands were still on Lucifer’s hips, thumbs stroking the skin, pushing up Lucifer’s shirt in the process. Lucifer had seen John do it was girls and it was only to get into their pants. But this felt like when they held hands, or when John stood too close to Lucifer to tease him. It was just something they would do. 

Lucifer tried to kiss John again. Their lips met and they stayed that way for a moment, skin resting against skin. Why didn’t it feel awkward? Then they kissed each other, skin moving against skin. Lucifer felt tingling in his chest and he moved closer. His hands found John’s ribs and John jumped. Lucifer laughed. He’d forgotten John’s tickling spots for a moment. 

He grinned wickedly and drilled his fingers into John’s side. John jumped and shouted and Lucifer laughed. 

“You’re dead, old man,” John said. His hands moved from Lucifer’s hips to spidering between Lucifer’s shoulder blades. 

“No! John, stop!” Lucifer gasped before being dragged down into laughter. John knew that was the closet space he could get to touching ‘Samael’’s true form, the spot where Lucifer’s wings would be. It was a very sensitive area. And given the right treatment, very ticklish. Lucifer was quickly reduced to shouts and wordless, breathless panting as he tried to wiggle away. 

John stopped suddenly and roared with laughter. “Oh God, did you just squeak?” 

Lucifer blushed. “I did not.” 

“You did, you squeak when you laugh.” 

“Shut up, it’s just Nick.” 

“I have to hear it again,” John said as the only warning Lucifer got. Lucifer squawked before the onslaught hit again. He tried to lay down and roll over onto his back so John couldn’t reach. This didn’t help because then John’s hands were trapped under Lucifer’s body weight and John’s finger dug into Lucifer’s flesh more. And okay, Lucifer’s laugh went from deep to very high pitched and maybe he did squeak a little.

But Lucifer was not losing. He had his hands frees now. They found John’s armpits and started to tickle. Suddenly John was the one shouting, “no, wait.” He tried to move away but Lucifer pushed himself down into the mattress to keep John’s hands pinned. John dug his fingers in more, making Lucifer scream with laughter and his body involuntarily tried to move away from the touch. 

Lucifer wrapped his legs around John’s waist to keep him from getting away so Lucifer could tickle more and John couldn’t escape. But this made Lucifer’s pants rub against John’s lap, and Lucifer didn’t notice that he’d lifted himself off the bed with the jolt of pleasure. He didn’t notice until John’s hands got free and tangled in Lucifer’s hair. 

John’s lips found Lucifer’s again and Lucifer realized this was the kind of kiss John had learned from women and he got a good idea why humanity for so obsessed with kissing. Lucifer’s back arched off the bad, rubbing against John again. Lucifer gasped and John’s tongue slipped into Lucifer’s mouth. Lucifer closed his eyes, deciding he like it. Lucifer hips moved up again, gasping once more. But this time John pushed his lap against Lucifer was well. That made Lucifer open his eyes.

The warm, throaty noises John made were familiar to Lucifer. Humans made them all the time and John was not a quiet man when he got hot. This was the noises John would made with girls when he liked what they did. Lucifer had one wild moment when he thought he wanted John to make those noises because of things Lucifer did. 

This would lead to sex. That was the thought that ran through Lucifer’s mind. He could let John do that to him. John came to the party to find a girl to do that with. But John was up there in the room set up for making out with Lucifer and not one of the girls. Lucifer knew he did not want to be one of those girls. 

Lucifer has still been tickling John. But when his eyes opened he moved his hands to John’s shoulder and pushed him away. Lucifer lay back on the bed and John was still over him. Lucifer’s legs were still around John. They were panting hard and staring. John’s fingers were still tangled in Lucifer’s hair.

John bent back down, pressing his lips to Lucifer’s. Lucifer returned his kiss. He wanted to kiss, but the lust he felt in John was not something Lucifer was prepared to deal with, especially not with the timing. John wanted a conquest before he shipped off. Lucifer pushed John away by the shoulders again. John looked thoroughly grumpy. He went back in for another kiss but Lucifer placed his hand between their lips. 

“You’re leaving in the morning, John,” Lucifer said. 

“So? It would be cruel to go away and leave you alone to die a virgin,” John grumbled. He grinned. Lucifer could tell by the crinkle at the corner of John’s eyes, even if Lucifer could not see John’s mouth. John’s lips and hot breath brushed against Lucifer’s fingers, but Lucifer didn’t dare more his hand. 

John stared at Lucifer for a minute. The ready smile he wore slipped away the longer he looked. John moved one hand to stroke down on of the legs still wrapped around his waist. Lucifer had forgotten they were there. John’s hand stayed on his leg like a guide as Lucifer unhooked his legs and placed them back on the bed. John moved from kneeling between Lucifer’s legs and Lucifer closed them.

“Then you’re just going to have to make it back,” Lucifer said. He watched John move and thought John was mad at him for not giving him what he wanted. He wondered why John had stopped then. Lucifer could have gotten away on his own, of course. Maybe that was why.

“Don’t make any stupid promises to wait for me,” John said. He kissed Lucifer’s fingers where they still rested on his face. Lucifer thought that is was one of the most intimate and sentimental thing John had ever done to him. Something twisted in his stomach. Why had John stopped? 

“I’ll find a hot girl, or something, sleep with her in your name,” Lucifer said with a smirk. John laughed. 

“You do that.” John moved Lucifer’s hand away, dragging them both up so they were sitting again. They sat close, their knees touching. John’s hand was still wrapped around Lucifer’s wrist. They just breathed. Lucifer felt like he really needed to breathe for the first time in his life. Air felt necessary to get his mind to work again. 

“I don’t want you to go, John,” Lucifer said. 

“I know, which is why I still need that promise,” John said. Lucifer turned his gaze to John. John’s fingers twitched over the bottom of Lucifer’s palm. It tickled a little, but not so much that Lucifer felt the need to brush John off. 

“And if my vessel gets drafted?” 

“Maybe someday, but hopefully this will be over by then. I don’t want you there, Samael.” John looked at Lucifer and Lucifer wanted to laugh. Lucifer was one of the most powerful beings ever created, and one little human worried about him. It wasn’t John’s place to try to protect him,

“And I don’t want you there, John Winchester,” Lucifer snapped.

John’s arms snaked around him, pulling him against his side. Lucifer’s shoulder slumped. He closed his eyes, trying to fight down his emotions when John kissed the top of his head. 

“I promise, Winchester. But promise me you’ll come home.” 

“I promise,” John said. 

Lucifer pulled away just enough so he could look at John. “You better make sure then. It’s bad to break a promise to an angel.” 

“I mean to come home in one piece, coming home alive is small in comparison,” John said seriously. 

Lucifer knew that was the best he was going to get. So he leaned in once more and kissed John again. John returned the kiss. It was chaste and simple and Lucifer just wished her could stay there with his lips pressed to John’s and that the sun wouldn’t rise every again. But Lucifer accepted the end and he pulled away. 

“Give me your hand,” Lucifer said. 

“Why?” John asked, but offered Lucifer the one he indicated. Lucifer worked the silver ring John always wore off John’s finger. It was his mother’s wedding ring. She’d left it behind when she disappeared when John was just a child. Lucifer didn’t think John even remembered his mother, but he still wore the ring. 

Lucifer pressed it between his palms and concentrated. He didn’t have a lot of grace left, but he pushed every bit of it that he could into the ring, with one commandment: protect him. He blessed it too, not sure how much that would do but he did it anyway. 

“For luck,” Lucifer said. 

“More than luck,” John said. He took the ring and put it back on. He looked down at it and then back at Lucifer. Their lips meant again, this time for a goodbye kiss. They both knew that Lucifer was going to go with them in the car. And he and John would hug because they could do that in public. But they couldn’t kiss goodbye. And then Lucifer would drive the car back and go to Henry Winchester and give him the letter John would hand him right before they separated. This was it. Whatever this was couldn’t be, not while John wasn’t there.


	5. Chapter 5

Lucifer dropped off the car when he left John and went back to Henry’s home. Henry hadn’t even known they’d gone. Lucifer went and grabbed the bag he’d started packing when John told him he was leaving. Lucifer handed Henry the letter and didn’t stay long enough to see him read it. Turned out Lucifer was a coward too. 

It was over a day’s ride to get from Normal, Illinois to Lawrence, Kansas. Samuel Campbell had made the trip often enough that John had made some real improvements to how he fought over the years. John, after all, was not the only part of the duo that would bring Lucifer his vessel. And really, Mary was the one Lucifer could actually use as a vessel. He should have gone to her originally anyway. It was easier to think about the new vessel he’d be protecting than having to realize that he just needed to trust Heaven to protect John Winchester. 

Lucifer knew he hated busses, they were confining and slow, but Lawrence was too far away from Lucifer to fly and he didn’t have enough money for a plane ticket. It was going to be a long day on a bus. Lucifer at least knew enough to bring something to do. Although it probably wasn’t the world’s best idea to be reading (and correcting where it was necessary) a book on demons. Scandalized old women tended to scream really loud and red necks tended to panic about atheists and communists, especially when you laughed in their face when they made the suggestion that you worshipped the devil. 

Lucifer read The Fellowship of the Rings for the entirety of the trip once he changed buses. It just seemed safer, or at least less loud. It was also less laughably bad. And it did make the tedium pass a bit better. He probably should have started with that one and eased into the text on demonic omens. 

At was night when Lucifer arrived. It wasn’t hard to locate the Campbell house. He was drawn to it. Between Samuel and Deana (both of whose lines could have held Lucifer, though he’d have burned through them rapidly) and Mary the household was a beacon for Lucifer. He was tired, he needed food and rest. He’d used up too much grace over those last few days, especially using a little to stop time so he could have a minute alone with John before John shipped off. Lucifer was resolutely not thinking about that moment. 

He knocked on the Campbell’s door and waited. Deana answered the door. She looked at him for a full minute before she said anything. “Can I help you?” 

“Yes,” Lucifer said. He suddenly realized that he’d never had to go anywhere that people didn’t know him, not since John had grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the Men of Letter HQ. Lucifer had only gone to places where John had taken him, or places that were run by people who he’d met because of John, or John or Henry or one of the Men of Letters went with him. What was he supposed to say exactly? 

“Are you here to see Mary?” Deana asked kindly, seeming to take silence for nerves, which they were not. 

“Yes,” Lucifer instantly. 

“Mary, one of your school friends!” Deana called. 

“Ah, no-” Lucifer started before Mary came to the door. She was very pretty by human standards, blonde hair, blue eyes. Consciously Lucifer knew that Nick probably resembled her a little bit. They were vaguely related anyway, second or third cousins anyway. She was also only a little older than Nick. 

Mary looked at him cocking her head to one side. “I don’t know him.” 

“He said he knew you,” Deana said. 

“Well, I don’t know him,” Mary said tartly.

“What is everyone doing standing around the door?” Samuel asked, the sounds of his boots coming before the man himself came into view. “Samael, what the blazes are you doing here?” 

Lucifer relaxed a bit. He’d watched one of John’s training sessions. Though he hadn’t interacted much with the man, the man at least knew him. “John left for Vietnam this morning. I didn’t believe my presence would be very welcome in the Winchester household after that.” 

“So, the kid really did it,” Samuel said, sounding impressed. “Come in, come in,” he said, practically grabbing Lucifer’s arm and dragging him inside. 

“Samuel, who is this?” Deana asked, shutting the door. Both she and Mary were eyeing Lucifer intently. 

“Angel from the Men of Letters.” 

“I’m not from the Men of Letters,” Samael. 

“You advise them,” Samuel said. 

“Not particularly,” Lucifer said. 

Samuel hand waved that away, dragging Lucifer back to dining room and pushing him down into a chair. “Deana, get the kid some food.” 

“I’m much older than you,” Lucifer said. 

“Do angels eat?” Mary asked. She was looking at Lucifer with a healthy amount of distrust. Lucifer thought vaguely that she might be the smartest one in the room. Though, he wasn’t going to hrut them, not yet.

“This one does anyway. Did you fly in?” Samuel asked, sitting down across from Lucifer, who suddenly felt on the spot in ways he did not like. He liked to control the situation. The professors hardly called on him, except for Ms. Saunders who seemed to genuinely want to include him. 

“Bus, plane ticket was too expensive,” Lucifer said. 

“I’m sorry, but do angels take public transportation?” Mary asked. 

“Not normally, but my grace has been a bit overexerted of late,” Lucifer said. Late being since he cracked himself out of the cage, barely scraping out at all, let alone with any of his grace. 

“So you rode the Greyhound for eight hours to get here?” Mary asked. “Why?” 

“I told you the tickets were less expensive,” Lucifer said, smirking at her. Mary looked like she was itching to slap him and he just smirked more. She had a pretty rapid fire temper too, but she also seemed to have more control than John did, more like Lucifer. Good. 

“That is a good question, though,” Deana said, coming back in with a sandwich. “Is this good?” 

“Thank you,” Lucifer said politely. He took a bit of the sandwich and nearly groaned. It tasted just fine to him and he was hungry. He only needed to eat and sleep when he was low on energy, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t indulge in food a bit more often than was necessary. Taste buds were wonderful things. 

“But really, why did you come here? You work with the Men of Letters, wouldn’t you be welcome there?” 

“John did not believe it was prudent to tell anyone he was going,” Lucifer said. “I believed the men would find reason to harm the messenger. And they find me… uncomfortable.” 

“What, do you stare too much?” Mary sassed. 

“I don’t know,” Lucifer said, turning his gaze to her. He didn’t even blink. “Do I?” They stared at each other for a minute. He realized quickly that she was trying to not even blink and she met his gaze passively like his staring was normal. 

“Dammit,” she muttered when she finally had to blink. 

“Mary, language,” Deana chastised. Lucifer was chuckling though. 

“I’d start with an easier opponent. John found an occasional win with Mrs. Roberts house cat,” he said. He turned back to his sandwich, contenting himself with food for a while. 

“So you’re here because your friend was a coward and left you holding the bag?” Mary asked, clearly annoyed at her loss. Lucifer did not want to hear it. He could call John a coward all he wanted, but no one else. 

“He’s and idiot who’s running off to a warzone to die, but he’s not a coward,” Lucifer said, a snarl on his lips. 

“John’s a good kid,” Samuel said, trying to clear the air. “But he really has more heart than sense sometimes.” That, Lucifer thought, was a true understatement. He didn’t say as much, though. He just finished his sandwich. 

“So, you’re going to stay here?” Deana asked. 

“Why not?” Samuel asked. “We could use another pair of hands, and frankly I’d like to not have to go to the Men of Letters any more than I need to.”

“Why not, dad?” Mary asked. 

“You’ve never met them. They’re all secretive and don’t want to give up their information. It’s like pulling teeth to get anything out of them and none of them have any idea of what’s like to actually be hunting something, even a damn deer.” 

“I don’t see how it’s bad that they’d prefer to learn about what’s out there, and raise their kids to learn instead of being out in the field.” 

“Mary, they wouldn’t be able to defend themselves if they wanted to. A few years ago something killed like a good forth of their membership.” 

“Not like Hunters have lost a forth of their number before,” Mary pointed out. 

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer interrupted, not particularly wanting to have to just watch what promised to become a very loud shouting match. “But is there something wrong with being a hunter?” he made himself sound as stupid as possible so when Mary turned on him she wasn’t yelling. 

“It’s fine if you can live forever, but not everyone has that luxury. But I suppose if you can just play a harp on a cloud everything seems easier.” 

“I’m sorry,” Lucifer said. “But I think you misunderstand. We hunted the things you hunted far before your kind had even grown into their mud huts. We do not sit idly on clouds. We are an army, the first army. We a soldiers and hunters. Please do not presume that just because we are powerful that we do not train and fight and die.” 

Mary shut up, looking at Lucifer a lot differently. “I’m sorry, you’re right, I shouldn’t have presumed.” 

“No harm,” Lucifer said, turning to the beverage Deana had put in front of him. He didn’t want to think about John Winchester and how he’d said almost the same thing and how he did apologize sometimes. Instead he focused on the brown liquid put before him. He tentatively raised it to his lips and grimaced. 

“What’s wrong?” Deana asked. 

“What is this?” Lucifer asked. 

“Sweet Tea, my mom makes the best in county,” Mary said. 

Lucifer glanced at her and decided that it was probably a better idea to drink it and choke on it than to say even one bad thing about it. He found that though it was not his favorite thing to put in his mouth, that he liked the sweetness and it was soothing. Before he knew it, he’d actually drained the cup. 

“Thank you,” Lucifer said again, politely. He couldn’t quite get over the idea that though Samuel seemed to be in charge that Deana was really the one who could decide whether or not Lucifer could stay. Henry had agreed, Lucifer doubted that Henry ever would have said no if John brought home someone who needed a place to stay, but Lucifer wasn’t assured a place with the Campbells.

“Mary, why don’t you should Samael up to the guest room?” Deana asked, taking the dishes to wash them. 

“This way,” Mary said. Lucifer grabbed his bag and followed her upstairs to a perfectly made room. 

“Do you get guests often?” Lucifer asked, glancing around the room. 

“Mom likes to pretend we’re normal,” Mary said. “You did good, by the way, drinking mom’s tea. She’ll never throw you out if she thinks you like her food.” 

“I’m certain I can think of many ways to get permanently thrown out,” Lucifer said. He turned away, setting his bag on the bed. He planned to unpack and then crash for a few hours.

“Sam?” Mary asked and Lucifer nearly put a kink into his neck turning around. 

“What?” Lucifer asked, grabbing his neck. 

“I was wondering if you answered to Sam, is all,” Mary said with a smirk. 

“You’re playing with fire, little girl, I can promise you that,” Lucifer said. He started to pull out his clothes. He’d brought mostly clothes, things he needed to fit in, and had only taken two books with him because he didn’t have room for much else. Pressed into Fellowship of the Rings was a copy of a photograph John insisted on having taken with Lucifer at a fair the year before. 

“What are the Men of Letters like?” Mary asked, sitting down the bed. 

“Boring, mostly,” Lucifer said. “They were disappointed that I was angel they summoned. They found my limitations to be frustrating.” 

“Limitations?” Mary asked, picking up the demon book and thumbing through. 

“I was… injured,” Lucifer said. That wasn’t a lie, not really, since he had been badly injured when Michael threw him into the cage. And he’d badly injured himself squeezing out of his prison. “I’m not likely to heal any time soon. It unnerves them that I cannot do what other angels can. And it unnerves them how young my vessel is.” 

“What is he, like 16?” Mary asked, suddenly scrunching her nose. “Do his parents even know where he is?” 

“I hardly care,” Lucifer said, unfolding some shirt. “Ow,” he said, and grabbed his head were something heavy had just been slammed into it. He turned and glared at Mary who was holding the demon book like a weapon. 

“That’s not right! You’ve been possessing some kid for who knows how long. You don’t even have anything to do right now, why don’t you just go back to Heaven and let the kid of his life back?” Mary hissed. Lucifer glared at her. She was angry, yes, but most of all she looked disappointed. 

“No,” Lucifer said. He pried the books out her grip using his superior strength. She recognized it for what it was. It didn’t make her look wary, it only made her angrier that he was trying to intimidate her. Not that he was trying to intimidate her. He was simply showing her the truth. 

“You’re an angel,” Mary said. “You’re supposed to be better than demon.” 

“Angels are not demons. We don’t possess people. We cannot appear on Earth without a vessel, our father’s orders. We can only exist on this plane while in a vessel and vessels have to agree,” Lucifer explained calmly. He was going to being with her. He needed to at least vaguely get along with her. Besides, John was supposed to marry her. 

“Are they informed?” Mary asked. 

“Informed of what?” Lucifer asked. 

“Informed of what they’re giving up?” Lucifer was a bit surprised that Mary would think to ask that. He watched her closely, realizing that she probably knew a lot of people who’d been possessed by demons and had seen how they could destroy a person, even if the person was bodily fine one the demon left them. 

“Not all of my brothers and sisters inform their vessels so carefully,” Lucifer said. “But I told Nick that I would need his body for at least thirty years, and that my mission was very important. I told him that it would probably be very unpleasant for him during that time, but that I would not be specifically cruel to him. I promised him that I would never lie to him.” 

“And he said okay?” Mary asked. 

“An angel asked him for help? Would you say no if I asked the same?” Lucifer asked. 

Mary actually thought about it. Finally she nodded. “Yes, I would have said yes.” 

“Keep that in mind,” Lucifer said. “Because you’re also a vessel I could use.” 

“No,” Mary said instantly. 

Lucifer sat down and just smiled pleasantly at her. “I wouldn’t be unkind to you. Though I doubt it would be very pleasant, though not as bad as it could be because my grace has been so weakened.” 

“No,” Mary said, crossing her arms over her chest, looking uncomfortable. 

“It would let Nick go,” Lucifer pointed out. “Normally vessels don’t age or get hurt. Angels shouldn’t need to eat or sleep or make waste. But I’m weakened, and Nick here has already aged nearly two years. You could save him, you no.” 

Mary did hesitate this time. “No,” she said with s lot of finality. 

Lucifer kept smiling “I offered you a choice. Hunters are supposed to help people, aren’t they?” 

“Yes, but-”

“But you’re not going sacrifice your own life for someone you don’t know,” Lucifer crooned, smiling too wide. 

“I won’t make my mother cry so I can save a kid I don’t know,” Mary said. “And maybe that makes me a bad person, but I don’t want to be a hunter, and I don’t want my kids to be hunters.” 

That made Lucifer falter. He hadn’t considered that. He looked at Mary, still another year of High School needed at least. Her future husband was in Vietnam and she hadn’t even met him yet. She’d been trained all her life to know and fear the creatures in the dark, to hunt and fight and die. 

“You’re ready for your discharge papers,” Lucifer said. 

“I don’t want my kids to worry about if their parents are going to come home,” Mary said, sitting down on the bed next to Lucifer. “I don’t want them to visit us in the hospital. I don’t want them to watch us die and to take up our mantel. I’m just…” She trailed off and took a deep breath. “I’m so damn lucky that my parents are ever still alive. Hunters don’t have long life spans. I know I’m supposed to care about strangers and save them. But I don’t Samael, I just don’t.” 

“Which is why you wanted to know about the Men of Letters,” Lucifer said. He suddenly understood that the argument downstairs had not just been normal teenaged rebellion. 

Mary nodded. “I don’t want to lose my family over it. So… if I married a Man of Letters, then my family couldn’t complain about me not hunting and not raising my kids to hunt.” 

“I don’t know, I think you father would complain,” Lucifer said. 

“Oh yes, he would, but I’d have a good excuse, one that I don’t really have to explain,” Mary said with a smile. “I don’t want to raise soldiers. I want to raise children.” 

Lucifer examined her. Mary turned her head and examined him as well. He thought that she seemed to be sizing him up for a good long while before finally deciding that he was mostly acceptable. Honestly, he liked what he saw as well. Maybe it was just his association with John, but he liked opinionated people, even Ms. Saunders who drove him insane. 

“A noble goal,” Lucifer finally said. 

“Alright,” Mary said. She picked up his books and set them by his bed. “I’ll help you unpack and then you sleep. I can’t imagine the Greyhound was kind even to angels.” 

“It’s probably a lot more taxing,” Lucifer said, getting up and stretching. His muscles still felt all cramped up. He stretched his wings as best he could, though really he didn’t have the space with Mary about. “It’s much slower than flying.” 

“Really?” Mary asked, going to the closet with some shirts to start hanging them up. “Will you take me flying one day?” She asked with a saucy grin. 

Lucifer smirked, brushing the tip of one of his wings against her side, making her jump and giggle at being tickled. “Possibly.” 

Mary flashed him a grin that told him he was going to pay for that last move. “I’m counting on it, Sam.”


	6. Chapter 6

Mary is easy to get along with. She argues with Lucifer constantly, but she doesn't get easily offended and she admits when she can't win the argument, even if she won't concede his point. Lucifer finds it annoying sometimes, but not always. He at least knows where he stands with her. It's not like John, where Lucifer easily slipped into his life with little fuss from John himself. John would talk and talk and never demand Lucifer speak, or just listen when Lucifer wanted to rant.

Mary liked the argument. She demanded that he respond to her ideas and contribute his own. She would talk when he came up with something that frustrated him. Mary wasn't like John. John was popular, on sports teams. He had friends to sit with and yet it surprised no one when Lucifer started to follow him around.

Mary wasn't unpopular. She was known to come from a good family, if a bit of a strange one. She didn't participate in extra school activities. She didn't go on field trips when everyone else in the class went. While people liked her, she would never reach the level of interschool fame John Winchester had. Because of that when Lucifer started to follow her to school people asked questions.

Samuel Campbell was the one with the solution. He cooked up a story of Lucifer being 'Samael Winchester', a son of a family friend who was having trouble after his big brother left for the war. Samael's father apparently asked the Campbells to take him in for a while and let him have time away from home. It kept people from asking questions, but it also meant that Lucifer was suddenly actually enrolled in school and expected to go to classes.

Lucifer hadn't really cared about classes before except that he enjoyed causing problems. Suddenly being expected to write research papers and include citations, Lucifer saw little enjoyment in something he'd hardly enjoyed in the first place.

"You really asked for it, you know," Mary said over lunch one day.

"I don't particularly see how," Lucifer grumbled. They sat alone and separated from the rest. He was in all of Mary's classes, Samuel had told the school he was 17 and senior. It had the added advantage that he at least could stay near his vessel.

"You know why dad did this, right?" Mary asked.

"Because I was going with you and it was less conspicuous," Lucifer said. He nibbled on the cucumber sandwich Deana made for him. She made him food every day whether or not he needed it. And she worried when he didn't eat. Mary also told on him if he just threw the food away so he finally just gave up and ate.

"No, because he's wanted to send me with a bodyguard for as long as I've been alive. You seemed willing to follow me around in the first place, so he was more than happy to make it so you had to stay near me."

Lucifer frowned. "That's quiet manipulative."

Mary smirked. "Even better that you didn't even get it. I guess angels aren't all knowing."

"I could read your mind. Then I would be all knowing about you," he said.

"Yeah, but you won't. It would tire you out too much," Mary said.

Lucifer scowled. He disliked how well she knew him. She was starting to learn where his powers would give out, even before he figured it out. He disliked her knowing her weakness. And He disliked that she covered for him when her father took them out on hunts. He didn't like feeling like he owed her anything.

* * *

Lucifer got injured in a hunt. Samuel figured Mary wasn't old enough to go on her own, but he sends her on her own with Samael. Little good that did them. Turned out that Mary was better at killing werewolves than Lucifer was, especially when his powers gave out half way through the fight.

"I'm not going to turn," Lucifer said. Mary had dragged him back to the motel, stripped him down and loaded him into the tub to try and clean his wounds. He had a gash on his side that would be fatal if he wasn't an angel, and a bite on his neck that would turn him if it weren't for the same thing. Though his grace had turned completely to trying to clean out the werewolf virus in his blood, so he was still bleeding out.

"Yeah, I know, just sit still," Mary said. She leaned Lucifer back against the wall of the tub. The water was up to his waist, and warm, but also pink from his blood and getting darker every minute. Mary opened the drain, keeping the water running so the tub wouldn't drain completely.

"I'll be fine."

"Can angels die?" Mary asked. She'd ripped off her coat and rolled up her sleeves earlier. She dipped a cloth in the water and started to wash Lucifer's wounds. He hissed. "Big baby," She muttered.

"Not," Lucifer said. He felt really tired. He just wanted to close his eyes.

"Open your eyes," Mary snapped and Lucifer opened his eyes. He hadn't even realized he'd closed them. "Can angels die?"

"Yes," Lucifer said.

"What kill them?" Mary asked.

"Usually an angels blade," Lucifer said. "Or one of the older beasts, like the Leviathans."

"The what?" Mary asked.

"Nothing you need to worry about. They're locked up tight."

"Seems like whatever anyone says don't worry about it'll be the thing to worry about," Mary said. Her hands worked on his wounds, trying to get the dirt out of them. "What about an angel with a hurt grace. Can they die?"

"Maybe," Lucifer said. "If the grace burns up and the body can't heal."

"Are you going to die?" She asked.

Lucifer only realized when she asked that how messed up he really was. He should have figured out what she was really asking when she asked if angels could die. Blood loss made his head spin.

"I can, but I won't today," he said. His voice sounded stronger than he felt. "You're with me. You're too stubborn to let me die."

"You're damn right," Mary said. She finished washing Lucifer and left him alone in the tub. He turned off the water when she came back with the rubbing alcohol. She didn't lightly apply it, though. She poured it directly over his wounds. Lucifer let out a shout of pain. His grace was too busy fighting the infection from the werewolf bite to numb the pain.

"That hurt," Lucifer hissed.

"Good, then maybe you won't be so stupid next time," Mary said. She knelt down next to him with the needle and thread. She started stitching up his side. Lucifer kept himself still because he knew she needed to do her work. But he couldn't stop the pained sounds, or much to his horror, the tears that came with dealing with the pain.

Mary lightly wrapped the wound once she finished the stitches. She kept glancing at him with worry. He couldn't seem to stop the tears and he started to shake all over. It was humiliating. He had to lean on Mary as she helped him out. She dried him and helped him to the bed. She finished bandaging the wound on his neck and tucked him under the blankets.

"First time feeling human hurt?" she asked.

"Yes," he admitted. He hated how shaky his voice was. Mary brushed his hair from his face. He probably needed a hair cut soon. She kept telling him that, but he was glad he hadn't. She would keep brushing it away from his face so often.

"I cried for my first stitches too," she said. "All that mattered if that you stayed still."

Lucifer smiled bitterly. "Are you going to tell me that I'm a big boy?"

"I should," she said with a smirk. She fiddled with his nose for a moment. It was just small affection. Then she got up, pulling the blankets around him more. "Try and sleep, you lost a lot of blood."

* * *

"Math is useless," Mary grumbled.

Lucifer smirked at her from the bed. He knew she didn't mean it. She could do all kind of math problems when it came to practical things. She understood vectors and sine/cosine/tangent when it came to shooting. She understood algebra when she calculated speed in her head or when she needed to figure out how many supplies they needed versus how much weight it would all be. Frame it as practical and Mary was a math genius.

But school didn't do practical.

Lucifer crawled up on bed next to Mary and lay down next to her, tucked right up to her side. She slung and arm over his back. He looked closely at the problems, trying to see her problem.

"You understand the formula," Lucifer finally said. "But you're making simply addition mistakes. Slow down and you'll do fine on the test."

* * *

Samuel taught him to shoot. He taught Lucifer to use a knife to skin an animal. He taught Lucifer to wrestle.

Mary practiced with Lucifer endlessly until he's certain he can shoot in his sleep. She whispered reminders of their hunts and his mistakes in his ear at all hours until he was damn certain he'd learn every weapon just to not have to have stitches again. She stroked his head when he cries every time he had to have stitches. Mary let him rant and yell about killing an innocent animal for no reason. Mary practiced wrestling with Lucifer endlessly, even though she always, always pinned him.

* * *

Lucifer wasn't certain where the year went. One day he was at the Campbell's front door, uncertain of his future and another he was standing next to Mary in their ridiculous cap and gowns. He hadn't cared at all about graduation, but Mary had insisted he go because she had to go.

Not that he blamed her. He was her closest friend. But the graduation in the gym reminded him too much of the last graduation he'd been too. It was practically the same, except that instead of seeing a kid he'd been tutoring for years, who he knew could have done better and could have been better, who was just so damn happy, Lucifer had Mary who didn't care about the graduation itself except that it was what normal people did.

It was like the party she'd dragged him to. Lucifer watched Mary laugh and dance and talk with her classmates. But she had no real connection with them. Lucifer saw her eyes keep seeking out his. He saw her do this because he barely stopped watching her all evening.

"You're actually going to make moon eyes at me all evening, aren't you?" Mary asked, sitting down next to Lucifer.

Lucifer shrugged. "You're more interesting than the rest of them."

"Want to go someplace else?" Mary asked.

Lucifer wanted to scream yes as loud as he could, even in his real voice. It was too soon, too like one evening where Lucifer had to say goodbye to a total fool who should have been looking for a conquest and instead spent his last hours with Lucifer.

Mary grabbed Lucifer's hand, but instead of leading him outside she led him upstairs. Lucifer felt like Nick's heart squeezed in his chest. It was nothing like before. The house looked nothing like the other house, and Mary picked the parents room, which was dirty, but deserted and she locked the door and turned on the overhead lamp.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" Lucifer asked.

Mary chuckled and tossed herself back on the bed. She gasped. "Samael, you've got to try this!"

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. He lowered himself down, feeling his butt dip down. It didn't feel comfortable. Mary huffed and dragged him down so he was just laying down. It was an odd sensation, a bit like floating, but also not. He could imagine sleeping easily on that. He'd heard about water beds. Now he wanted one.

Mary shifted next to him so she was facing him. She propped herself on her elbow, which dipped a bit because of the bed. But she was still looking down at him with a smile.

"So?" he asked.

"So I was thinking that we should go see a movie on Sunday."

"Is there a particular film you want to see?" Lucifer asked. She certainly talked when she saw a movie she wanted to see. He couldn't think of anything she wanted to see.

"Nope," she said. She was smiling now like she was telling a joke and he just hadn't figure out what it was yet.

"Then why a movie?" Lucifer asked.

"Because I'm asking you out on a date, stupid," Mary said with a grin.

Lucifer was more than a little taken aback. He thought briefly that he'd somehow managed to attract to him both of the parents of his future vessel. Then he frowned because something seemed wrong.

"I thought you wanted to be normal."

"Samael, it's not a marriage proposal," Mary said with exasperation.

"Girls don't ask guys out."

"Yeah, but I figure if I waited until she asked I'd be waiting until the world ended," Mary said. "So, what do you say?"

Lucifer thought about it. He really did. He considered and weighed his options. He missed John. He really missed him. Lying next to Mary reminded him of lying next to John. But Lucifer thought of the times he'd lain next to Mary while they were doing homework, or when he'd been hurt and they were trying to keep his weakness secret. He saw her then, just waiting for his answer patiently. She didn't look anxious by his silence or how long he'd been thinking. She understood that he actually had to think. She understood him better than anyone did, probably including John.

"Okay," he finally said. Mary smiled. She leaned over and kissed his cheek. He smiled despite himself.


	7. Chapter 7

Mary assured him that their first date went about as expected for first dates. That didn't make him feel better. He was the one who was prophesied to end the world and he'd been nervous about going to a movie. Frankly he didn't remember what they saw, even though he asked for the ticket and sat through it. He spent the entire film watching Mary to be certain she liked it.

"You know," she whispered at one point. "I'd like it a lot better if you could be a little less obvious in your staring."

He's glared at her and looked away. He tried to be more discrete the rest of the film, but honestly even if Mary had assured him she hadn't noticed he would have known she was lying. She smirked all the way to the diner.

"You paid for the movie, so I'm paying for dinner," Mary said.

"I didn't pay for the movie," Lucifer told her. "I asked your mother if I could have twenty dollars. I think she thought I was finally going to buy some new pants."

Mary laughed. "And I asked my dad for twenty dollars to buy a new purse. We'll put the extra together and buy mom some flowers or something."

"Or we could save it for next time so neither of us have to ask for fake pants money," Lucifer pointed out.

"Or we could put it together and actually buy you a pair of pants tomorrow so mom won't ask why you didn't buy new pants," Mary pointed out with a too sweet smile.

Lucifer thought about it for a moment. "That's probably the best idea." Really, trying to stop Deana Campbell from taking care of him was probably the biggest mistake he'd ever made in his existence. (He wasn't counting the fall. That was distinctly not his fault.)

"And it'll be a good second date," Mary suggested.

"Buying me to pants? Of joy," Lucifer muttered.

"So," Mary asked. "Now what are you going to do?"

"Eat dinner with you," Lucifer said.

He reached out and took her hand. He'd seen John do it a lot of times. He didn't hold Mary's hand like he'd held John's before. He knew better now. He'd learned better fairly early on with John, but Lucifer had gotten used to doing so. It was different with Mary. The shy smile that lit her face made Lucifer feel like he'd done something right. She was hard and strong. She was tougher than John would ever be. She was a warrior. He resonated with her strongly. She was the almost right, the rebel. John, though he rebelled like the teenager he was, was still desperate to be one of the Men of Letters. Mary just wanted a way out. She'd take it even if she lost everything.

Even knowing she'd lose everything.

"No," Mary said, drawing Lucifer out of his reverie. "I meant, now that school's over."

Lucifer tilted his head to the side. "Stay with you."

"What if I leave town?" she asked quietly.

"I'll follow," Lucifer said plainly.

"How come I feel like this isn't you trying to be romantic?" Mary's tone had shifted. She sounded annoyed.

"Because it isn't," Lucifer said. He felt even more confused. He could tell he was walking into a landmine, but he didn't know why or how to stop it, so he just told the truth.

"You know, I keep wondering about the day you showed up at our doorstep. Mom said you knew me then. You don't seem very interested in Mom or Dad, but you've always seemed to look at me different. But you didn't know me until you got to our house. You just came. Why?"

"You're my vessel," Lucifer said.

"Yeah, but see, you don't ask me if you can wear me. You seem just happy to stick around. I got to know, why did you come? Be honest. I can tell when you lie."

"I don't lie," he said.

"You don't lie well… okay, you do half-truths very well, but you still trip over your last name and you've had that for a while now." Mary tugged him aside toward the park, mostly just away from everyone else. "I want the truth, Sam."

Lucifer sighed heavily. He walked in silence with her until they got to the edge of the park. He wanted to have this conversation away from people with prying ears. Generally people didn't care, until someone started yelling, then they were all ears.

"There are a few people who are fated to be together," Lucifer said. "To help create vessels. Your parents were fated as their parents were fated, all the way back to the nephilim whose bloodline you came from. You are a near perfect mix of genetics of all those who have come before, and the next generation will be even more perfect."

"I don't understand," Mary said quietly.

"You're supposed to marry John Winchester. I came to you because with him gone you were the closest link to him I could find."

"So," she said, speaking with surprising calm. "You came to me because you missed you friend."

"More than a friend," Lucifer near whispered. He missed John fiercely. He wanted to reach out and find him, even knowing how it would tire him and make him worry. He hadn't heard from John at all… of course he'd left, and Lucifer doubted Henry would pass letters on to him even if he knew how to find him.

"A brother?" she asked, trying to sound hopeful.

"He was my first kiss," Lucifer stated plainly.

"Isn't that sin?" she asked.

"It's not a sin for a man to love another man," Lucifer said.

"No, for an angel to love a man."

Lucifer chuckled bitterly. "It's complicated," he admitted. "But in theory we should love humanity even more than we love our father. John is…" Lucifer hesitated. He didn't have a word for it in any language he knew. It wasn't love, not like how he felt for his siblings, not like how he'd felt for Michael, or still felt for Michael. It wasn't like how he loved his father at all. And it was nothing like how he was supposed to feel for humanity but never could.

"I miss him," Lucifer whispered. "I worry for him constantly. I want him back and safe and the stupid boy he was when I met him and when I said goodbye, not the hollow eyed soldier I predict will come back. If he comes back."

"He's important to you," Mary said. She sounded sympathetic? No, that wasn't right. It was understanding. She worried about her father constantly. Lucifer had watched her eyes flick to the window any time she heard the slightest noise outside when he father was supposed to come home for a hunt. There was also resignation in her voice, but he didn't know why.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

Mary took a deep breath, it sounded wobbly. "It hurts to hear you're just a second."

"No," Lucifer said as definitively as he could. "There's no first, there's no second. There's just different. I prefer it that way."

"And what happens when he comes back?" Mary asked.

"You're going to come with me, aren't you?" Lucifer asked. "You wanted away from hunting. Helping the Men of Letters," he said, making it sound as seductive as he could.

"So I can marry a stranger who ran off to war? No thank you. I don't need another copy of my father in my life."

"You're fated," Lucifer said.

"Screw fate," Mary said. She gripped his hand until it actually started to hurt a little. "I don't want John Winchester. I've met him. I don't like him. I like you. I want you."

"You can't have me," Lucifer scoffed.

"Why not?" she demanded.

"It's fated," Lucifer said.

"And what if it wasn't fated? What if fate was off the table? Then what? You said it was complicated for an angel to love a human. Tell me why it's complicated?"

"Nephilim," Lucifer said. "For one thing, I don't know any way for a human woman to birth a child of an angel and not die. I know you want children, Mary."

Her lower lip trembled. "Then why did you agree to come out with me? If you knew it was impossible, why did you agree?"

"I was being selfish," Lucifer said. "I wanted to, so I said yes."

"That's it?" Mary asked gravely.

"Yeah, that's it," Lucifer said with a shrug.

"Maybe I want to be selfish too," she said. She shoved him back against the stone pillar that made the entrance to the park. He stumbled a bit, allowing her to push him. He wasn't surprised until she kissed him.

It wasn't like John. Mary's face was smooth. There was nothing hesitant about her kiss. She took what she wanted. There was no awkward clicking of teeth when he kissed her back. He rested his hands on her arms and her hands found his hips. It wasn't heading somewhere. It wasn't a last hurrah. But it was desperate.

She pulled away a bit and blinked rapidly. "Tell me, Samael, am I going to lose you when John Winchester comes back from the war. Be honest. Don't be kind."

Lucifer thought about it. He missed John greatly, but the idea of being away from Mary made something in him ache. She was much more like him. She read him so much easier. "I don't want to leave you behind," he said.

"But?"

"but I miss him," he said.

"So you'll go."

"I don't know," he said. "I don't know what I'll do or what will happen." It was an uneasy feeling. There had always been a plan. There was still a plan. John Winchester's laughter and Mary's smiles had never been a part of that plan. But he didn't want them to go away.

"Screw fate," Mary whispered.

"Screw fate," Lucifer agreed only half-heartedly.

"Come on," she said, offering him her arm. "Let's get dinner."

"You're paying," he said. She smiled and he smiled back.

* * *

Their fifth date was a lot better than their first. Basically every date was better than their first. Lucifer took them to see a kid's play. The little third graders stuttered through their lines. Mary cooed beside him about how cute it was the whole time. Then she kissed him. She'd kissed him on every date. It was just starting to become something they did. He was better at it. He also felt like he was getting the whole dating thing down.

* * *

Their tenth date only counted as a date in Lucifer's mind. Mary had applied to a local college and her father had found the acceptance letter. It hadn't gone well. Lucifer grabbed some blankets had taken her hand and zapped her out to a field almost a whole state over. They lay in the grass and watched the stars. Lucifer fell asleep first from exertion of the trip. His wings had been badly damaged in the fall in the first place, but with his grace so depleted it was ever harder to fly.

He woke up in the morning, Mary pressed tight to his side, sandwiched between two blankets, covered in dew. He'd kissed her cheek because he felt for just a moment that she was beautiful. He'd never felt that way about humans before.

An hour later they gathered up their blankets and walked toward the farm house they could see when they stood up in the field. They called Deana and told her where they were and waited until Samuel came to pick them up. Samuel made certain that they knew exactly how angry he was on the way home. Lucifer sat next to Mary the whole way, touching her when he knew her father wasn't looking.

* * *

"Just go anyway," Lucifer had said.

"I just wish it didn't have to come to this," Mary said quietly, settling into his arms. He placed a kiss on her brow.

"You're strong, and you won't be by yourself," he assured her.

"I'd do it even if I was alone," she said, gritting her teeth.

She pushed herself away from Lucifer and started to pack her bag again. Lucifer watched her for a moment, then he got up and stopped her. She'd packed and repacked a lot. Lucifer's bag was also already ready. "We'll figure it out," he told her. "Do you want to write a letter?"

Mary went very tense when he touched her. Then she relaxed against him. "No really, no," she said. "But I suppose it has to be done."

* * *

He got them to a city a state away this time. He had his bag and Mary had two. Lucifer had to lean against the closest wall. Mary placed herself next to him and he leaned against her. He felt drained like he would break into two. The control he'd needed for such a jump only about a week after the last one drained him to a point where he felt like he was breaking in two.

"Come on," Mary whispered. "The bus station is close."

Lucifer didn't feel like he could move or even indicate that he couldn't move. Mary didn't push him. She did slip her arm around his waist and allow him to lean against her more. He knew he had to be heavy, but he also couldn't find it in him to move.

"Excuse me, is everything okay?" a man asked, coming over to them after they'd been there for a while.

"Not really," Mary said. "My boyfriend is sick. He's standing, we're supposed to be catching a bus soon, but I'm not certain if we can walk to the bus stop."

"I can take you," the man said. Lucifer imagined he was won over my Mary's sweet looks, but Lucifer couldn't see it. He could feel the man get on his other side and help him to the car with Mary's help. He could feel the car seat under him. He could hear Mary talking with man once she got in the car, but they felt far away.

It seemed like no time at all before Mary was whispering in his ear that they'd arrived. Enough energy had come back to him that he grabbed his bag and was able to climb out of the car. He had to let Mary thank the man, and buy their ticket. He dozed in one of the bus station chairs until it was their time to get on the bus and then he slept the entire trip, waking only when Mary roused him.

**Author's Note:**

> Just to be clear, I generally dislike the idea of Samael being Lucifer’s original name before he fell. That being said, Lucifer doesn’t lie and he’s not going to say he’s Lucifer, so I needed something to work with. Plus, SPN seems to borrow heavily from Neil Gaiman anyway, so why not? 
> 
> Also, this is eventual John Winchester/Mary Winchester/Lucifer, with John/Lucifer, Mary/Lucifer, and John/Mary earlier on. Also maybe (maybe) Dean/Castiel if it gets to that later point in the story, but who knows. Also, Henry Winchester gets to do things later!


End file.
